


Kill The Beast

by velvetjinx



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Animal Death, Blood and Gore, Horror, Inspired by a Movie, M/M, Stucky Is Endgame, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 06:56:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12452028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velvetjinx/pseuds/velvetjinx
Summary: Billionaire Tony Stark invites several guests to his mansion in the English countryside for the weekend. But what seems at first to be the chance for an idyllic getaway quickly turns into something more sinister, and soon all the guests are filled with suspicion... and fear.





	Kill The Beast

**Author's Note:**

> This was the most fun to write! It's based on the classic 1970s movie "The Beast Must Die which, if you haven't seen it, you really should because it's amazing. It has the werewolf break which I incorporated into the fic. 
> 
> Thanks be to dracusfyre for the beta, everyone who cheerleader me on, and the mods for organizing this bang. I've had a blast.

The helicopter finally landed in the middle of a large estate. Its occupants, who had been silent the entire ride, slowly got out, mindful of the still-whirring blades. A man in a dark blue suit was walking down the path, and raised his hand in greeting. 

“Welcome, all of you!” he said jovially, but his smile was tight and slightly fake. “Thank you all for coming to visit me here in the beautiful English countryside.”

“What is this all about?” the young woman, her red hair flaming in the early evening sunlight, asked forcefully. “I get this invitation out of nowhere but it didn't say why.”

“And yet you still came?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Curiosity,” the man said, his tone thoughtful, “is a great motivator. But please, bring your bags inside and let me show you to your rooms.” He led them up the path to an enormous house, which had vines climbing the walls, through the large, marble-tiled entrance hallway and up a grand staircase. Their footsteps were almost silent in the thick carpet, as they admired the detailed wooden banisters. As they walked through a high-ceilinged, ornate hallway, with various murals on the walls and ceiling, he turned to them with that same smile. “Your rooms are down this hallway. Dinner will be served at eight sharp. Please be punctual.”

“So why are we here, then?” a young blond man asked. 

“All will be revealed at dinner.” He took each of them to their rooms, and went through to the other hallway to his own room, where a young woman was waiting. 

“Tony, are you sure this is a good idea?” she asked, her fingers twisting nervously. 

Tony wrapped his arms around her waist. “Pepper, I told you not to worry. I'll be here to protect you.”

“But what if one of them really is--”

“I'm hoping they are,” Tony said grimly. “And if they are, I'll know what to do.”

***

Dinner was an awkward affair. The guests arrived punctually, dressed in evening wear, and were seated around a large dining table with their host at the head and Pepper at the foot. A large golden retriever sat next to Tony as their food was served onto gleaming white plates, and wine poured into crystal goblets. The light breeze billowed the white muslin curtains in through the large windows, and the candles on the dining table were just enough to keep the darkness at bay. 

When dinner was over, Tony nodded to the servers. “You can go home now,” he told them. “You won't be needed any more tonight.” The servers smiled, leaving only the party in the dining room. Tony stood and smiled his fake smile at the room. “I assume you all know me.”

“You're Tony Stark,” the dark haired, rugged looking man said. “You're the billionaire philanthropist.”

“That is correct. I think it's time for us all to introduce ourselves. Get to know one another, as it were,” Tony told the assembly. “First of all, I'm sure you all recognize my wife, Pepper, at the end of the table there.” Pepper waved, smiling wanly. She looked pale in the candlelight, even more so because she was so fair, and the assorted guests wondered. “Why don't we start with you?” Tony asked, pointing to the older gentleman, who nodded. 

“My name is Alexander Pierce. I'm an ex-diplomat, and now write travel books.”

The redheaded woman was next. “Hi all. I'm Natasha Romanoff. I'm a pianist who travels extensively on tour.”

“Hello, everyone,” the dark haired man said. “I'm Brock Rumlow. I'm an airplane pilot for a large, international airline.”

The man next to him brushed his long brown hair out of his eyes. “I'm Bucky Barnes, I'm an air steward, and Brock and I have been together two years now.”

The blond man looked as if he'd swallowed a lemon, and shook his head before speaking. “I'm Steve Rogers. I'm an art professor at NYU and also an art historian, a job which takes me all over the world.”

“Excellent, excellent,” Tony said clapping his hands. “Now I know you've all been wondering why I've brought you here, but first one or two things. Professor Rogers, isn't it true that you and Mr Barnes were together for a substantial time before an argument drove you apart and sent him into the arms of Mr Rumlow?”

Steve froze, then gradually made himself relax. “Yes, that's true.”

“And Ms Romanoff,” Tony continued, “is it not the case that you were actually found to be a Russian spy and spent time in prison before they let you out due to your information about the Russian spy network?”

Natasha flushed uncomfortably. “I…”

“Yes or no, Ms Romanoff?”

“Yes, okay? Fine. Yes,” she said angrily, going to pick up her wine glass. But her movements were too abrupt and she knocked it over where it broke against the table. Pepper went to pick up one of the pieces of crystal, then cried out, and the guests saw blood seeping through her fingers. 

Tony ran to her, wrapping her hand carefully in his handkerchief. He kissed her on top of the head, then returned to his place at the head of the table. 

“This, however, is not why you are all gathered here,” he continued, all hints of friendliness gone. “You are here because in each of your cases, strange murders have occurred while one or more of you were in various locations around the globe. These murders came to my attention because I have a similar interest to you, Professor Rogers. Is it not true that one of your hobbies is the study of lycanthropy?”

Steve took a sip of his wine. “Yes, that is true.” He paused. “Do you mean to say…?”

“Yes.” Tony looked around the table, his expression somber. “At least one of you is a werewolf, and must be destroyed.”

The party looked at each other uneasily. One of them?

Natasha began to laugh. “You must be joking, surely, Mr Stark. There is no such thing.”

“Au contraire, Ms Romanoff, I have studied this extensively. There are indeed such things as werewolves, and I am fully aware that at least one member of this party has killed before.” He smiled. “Do you smell that?”

The guests sniffed the air. 

“What an unusual scent,” Pierce said politely. “What is it?”

“Flowering wolfsbane,” Tony replied with a dark grin. “Coupling that with the full moon outside over the next three nights should produce a reaction.”

Each of the party looked at the others around the table, all of them suddenly afraid. If what he said was true…

But all of the guests remained human, and Tony nodded thoughtfully. 

“Interesting. Interesting. Now I would like you all to pass around this candlestick. Though I should warn you,” he said, eyes narrowed, “that it is pure silver, which should bring out the werewolf in whoever it is by allergic reaction.”

One by one they grasped the candlestick, each of them holding their breath, but there was nothing. Everyone remained human. 

Each and every member of the party took a deep breath, and the tension seemed to dissipate slightly. 

Tony tried to hide his disappointment as he looked around the room. 

“Hmm, I wonder…” he said softly. 

Natasha stood. “Well, you've had your fun, but I for one am leaving. Nice to meet you all.”

She was walking towards the door when Tony called out, “And where will you go, Ms Romanoff? We're miles from anywhere. And my pilot, David, has been instructed not to take anyone off my property until my say so.”

“That's kidnapping!” Pierce said, enraged, and stood abruptly, knocking his chair backwards. 

“Not at all. You all accepted my invitation.”

“If it is true that one of us is as you say,” Steve said slowly, “what is to stop them from escaping the boundaries of your estate during the night?”

“A high electrical fence has been installed around the perimeter,” Tony said calmly as he sipped his wine. “There will be no escape. My assistant Clint will also be watching the house and grounds on CCTV. Oh, don't worry,” he added as everyone looked at each other uneasily. “The cameras are not in your bedrooms. Only the hallways and the grounds, as well as the downstairs rooms. We have also installed motion sensors all over the grounds for your… protection.”

“This is bullshit,” Natasha spat, sitting back down on her chair. 

“I think perhaps everyone has had enough for this evening,” Tony said quietly. “I would suggest that everyone retire for the night.”

“I'll be right up,” Bucky said to Brock, whose eyes flicked to Steve in understanding. 

“Okay. Don't be too long.” He kissed Bucky briefly, then left the dining room. 

One by one everyone went out of the room, until the only two left were Steve and Bucky. 

“So… how have you been?” Bucky asked softly after a moment of silence. 

“Fine,” Steve replied shortly. “Bucky, what do you want?”

“Me and Brock…” Bucky lowered his voice. “It's not… it's not serious. I miss you.”

“And you pick now to tell me?” Steve asked with a hoarse laugh. “Jesus, Buck. Go back to your pilot boyfriend and leave me alone.”

Steve stood, and Bucky grabbed his arm. “Steve, I--don't you love me any more?”

Steve's mouth twisted. “I'll always love you, Buck. But that doesn't mean I forgive you for what you did.” He shook Bucky's hand off his arm and went upstairs; Bucky, not wanting to be alone given what Tony had said after dinner, followed soon after. 

***

“Boss, I still can't believe you spent this much money on this setup chasing a mythical creature.”

Tony looked seriously at his assistant. “Clint, the werewolf is no more mythical than you or I. And one of those guests is a shapeshifter. I'd lay money on it.”

“You have,” Clint joked, and Tony sighed. 

“Just watch the CCTV and let me know if you see anything.”

“Where are you going?”

“On patrol.” Tony took out a Smith & Wesson .500, and began loading it up with bullets. Clint looked at him curiously. 

“You're gonna stop this thing with bullets?”

Tony shook his head. “Not just any bullets, Clint. Silver bullets. Guaranteed to stop any werewolf in its tracks.”

Clint snorted. “If you say so, boss. Well, at least I'm safe in here. Nothing and no one is getting in or out, right?”

Tony nodded and left to patrol around the garden, locking the door behind him. Clint watched the array of monitors in front of him, when there was a sudden shadow on the path to the house and the motion sensors in the surrounding area went off. Clint sat forward, suddenly alert, but the shadow had gone. 

“Fucking jumping at shadows,” he muttered to himself. “Probably the local wildlife.”

There was no more movement on the cameras, and he heaved a bored sigh, when suddenly there was a low, rumbling noise from above him, sort of like a loud growling. He looked up to the glass skylight and saw a huge grey-black wolf standing above it, eyes glowing red. Clint’s eyes widened and he started to scream as the werewolf broke through the skylight and bounded down, right on top of him. His scream was cut off abruptly as the werewolf ripped his throat out, before backing away. As it made its way towards the door, it morphed back into human shape, unlocking the door with Clint’s handkerchief so as not to leave fingerprints and exiting the room quietly…

***

Tony was getting increasingly frustrated. He had been out patrolling around the large, fragrant garden for an hour and found nothing. 

He tried to get Clint on the comms to see if anything had been observed. 

“Clint? Clint, do you read?” But there was no reply. Suddenly afraid, Tony ran back towards the house, only to discover the door of the comms room open and smeared with blood. He opened the door slowly, and bit back a scream. Clint was still sitting on the chair, wide, sightless eyes staring at the broken skylight, body mauled. 

Tony backed out of the room and ran upstairs to his and Pepper’s room. She sat up sleepily as he came in. “Tony? What's wrong?”

“It killed Clint. Oh my god, Pepper, the werewolf got Clint,” he gasped, and Pepper glared at him. 

“I told you this was a stupid idea, Tony! But would you listen? And now Clint is dead. Just send them all away, before someone else gets hurt!”

“No!” Tony yelled, and Pepper took a step back. Tony took a deep breath, then said more calmly, “No. I can't stop now, don't you see? Now the werewolf knows we're onto it we'll be in danger unless I find it and put it down.” His mouth tightened into a thin line. “Come with me. We're going to check on our house guests.”

Tony knocked on each of their doors, but they were all present and accounted for. Each of them also seemed--or at least acted as though--they were shocked to hear of his assistant’s violent death. But Tony knew that one of them had to be the killer. 

As they stood in the doorways of their rooms, shocked, Steve glanced at Natasha in sudden recognition. 

“Natalia Romanova. I knew I knew your face. Isn't it also true that aside from being a Russian spy you also used to eat the human flesh of the people you killed?”

Natasha flushed a mottled red. “That was an ugly rumor,” she snapped. “I have never eaten human flesh. Please don't be disgusting.”

Tony looked at her curiously. “And yet the fact that these rumors exist is telling. Why would someone make up something like that if it wasn't true?”

“To make me seem like more of a monster than I was already thought to be.”

Tony stepped forward. “Then you won't mind if I lock you in your room, since you seem to be the prime suspect.”

“Do whatever you want,” Natasha said with a resigned sigh. “If I'm locked in I'll be safer anyway.”

Tony nodded, and proceeded to lock Natasha in her room. He turned to his other guests with narrowed eyes. 

“I suggest you all turn in for the night.”

Most of the party turned to go back to their rooms, but Pierce hesitated. “May I request that I join you on your patrol?” He took a small revolver half out his pocket to show it to Tony. “I'm not sure how effective it will be against a werewolf, but I'm sure it'll slow the bastard down.”

Tony looked at Pierce consideringly. “Okay, but stay close to me.” The ‘so I can keep an eye on you’ was unsaid, but hung in the air. Pierce, however, just nodded. 

“What am I to do?” Pepper asked, her tone annoyed. 

“Go back to our room and lock the door and windows. Don't come out no matter what you hear, and I'll come and get you later.”

Pepper sighed heavily, brushing her long, strawberry blonde hair back from her face, then nodded. “Fine. But you'd better take care of yourself, Tony.”

“Don't worry,” Tony said with a grin, patting his gun. “I'll be fine.”

Once Pepper was back in her room, Tony led Pierce downstairs. “Are you likely to panic when you see the wolf?” Tony asked softly. 

“Probably,” Pierce said with a short laugh. “I've never met an evil creature before.”

Their patrol took them past some greenhouses filled with fragrant, colorful flowers, and Pierce suddenly gasped in horror at the sight which awaited them there. Tony followed his gaze, looking down to see the mangled remains of a man, half burned cigarette still lit in his hand. His face was almost unrecognizable, but Tony noticed a tattoo on his wrist and bit his lip. 

“David,” he said with a sigh. “I told you not to venture outside tonight of all nights.” 

“David? Your helicopter pilot?” Pierce asked, tone slightly hysterical. “Then none of us are ever leaving.”

Tony narrowed his eyes. “Don't be stupid. There are other ways out of here. I just didn't want anyone to think they could just leave whenever they wanted to.” He observed the body. “This must have been recent. Which means the werewolf could be close by.”

Pierce took out his revolver with shaking fingers, glancing around the dark garden. His eyes fell on one of the greenhouses, and saw glowing red eyes looking back at him. Pierce screamed as the werewolf pounced, and Tony spun around, gun raised, but he was too late. Pierce was dead, his body ripped to shreds by the beast. 

The werewolf turned to Tony, who fired, but missed. However, this seemed to be enough to scare the werewolf away, and it ran towards the house. Tony watched it go, hand shaking too badly to aim, and as soon as it was out of sight leaned back against the greenhouse. Pepper was right. This had been foolish. But now he was in it he was determined to finish it. 

He returned to the house, waking Pepper up again. “Pierce and David are gone,” he told her grimly, and she gasped, hand going to cover her mouth. “We need to wake up the whole party again to make sure everyone is in their room.”

He marched into the other corridor, Pepper trailing behind him, and knocked on each door. They all opened--all but Pierce, of course--and Tony looked curiously at Natasha. 

“How are you able to open your door when I locked it with a key?” he asked. 

Natasha's eyes widened. “You didn't unlock it before you knocked?”

“I did not. And now two more people are dead--Pierce and my helicopter pilot, David.”

“I swear it wasn't me!” Natasha cried out, hands held up as though to ward Tony off. “Lock me in again, do whatever you want, I swear I'm not a monster!”

“We'll see. Go back to your rooms, and try to get some sleep. I will continue to patrol. This ends tonight.” Tony turned on his heel and stalked off, Pepper behind him, leaving the others shaking their heads and eyeing each other suspiciously. 

Steve thought for a moment, considering his options, then ran after Tony. “Let me help,” he said pleadingly to his host. “Perhaps my expertise can be of some use.”

Tony looked at him searchingly, then nodded. “Okay.”

“I'm coming too,” Pepper said firmly, but Tony shook his head. 

“No, Pepper. You lock yourself in our room again and don't come out until I come to get you.”

“Tony Stark, do you honestly think I'm going to hang around and let you get killed by yourself?” she asked, voice shaking and fists clenched. “That's just not going to happen. Three people are dead and for all I know you're next on this monster’s list. I'm coming with you, and that's final.”

Tony sighed. “Fine. But stay safe. If you see anything, get behind me and I will deal with it, okay?”

“Okay,” Pepper agreed. Tony, however, knew that in all likelihood Pepper would throw herself in front of him if there was any danger, and he sighed. He hoped that Steve was both innocent and able to protect Pepper in a pinch. 

Pepper and Steve followed Tony out into the garden, past the wolfsbane plants, and stopped in their tracks. There, across the garden, was the werewolf, watching them. Pepper screamed as Tony fumbled with his gun, and the wolf howled and began to bound towards them, growling. 

There was a blur of gold, and suddenly Pepper’s dog was on the werewolf, biting the fur on its back, trying to keep it from reaching the humans. The wolf, furious, attacked the brave dog, killing him with one well-placed bite. Tony took aim, but before he could fire the wolf ran away again. Pepper ran towards her dog with a cry before Tony could stop her, pressing at the wound as she tried to stem the flow of blood. 

Steve went to her and brought her away gently. “He died bravely, protecting you,” he said softly as she began to sob. As Steve led her towards the house, she stopped next to Tony, slapping him across the face before wrapping him in a hug. Tony kissed her on the forehead. 

“I love you, and I'm sorry,” he said quietly. “He was a good dog, and he loved you too.” Pepper nodded. Together, they all went into the house, where Bucky and Brock were waiting. 

“I heard screaming,” Brock said, “and I woke Bucky. What happened?”

“The werewolf killed our dog,” Tony said angrily. “And I am done playing around. We're going to find out who the werewolf is, once and for all.”

***

WEREWOLF BREAK

Have you guessed who the werewolf is yet? The number of suspects is going down quickly!

Take thirty seconds to think about it, then go onto the next chapter to see if you were right!

***

Tony led them into the living room, and took a single silver bullet out of his gun. 

“I don't know why holding the silver candlestick didn't work at dinner,” he began. “Perhaps the werewolf was too wily for us. Perhaps they were able to cover their hand before holding the candlestick. But there's no way you can get around this one. Put this bullet in your mouth for ten seconds and see what happens. If nothing happens, then congratulations! You're not the werewolf. If you are…” He trailed off. 

“You know,” Bucky said thoughtfully, “there's one option we haven't considered--that you're the werewolf, Mr Stark!”

“That's nonsense,” Tony scoffed. “But if you need proof…” He put the bullet in his mouth, and the party held their breath, but nothing happened. “See?” he said, spitting out the bullet and wiping it on a clean handkerchief. 

“Your wife next,” Bucky said firmly, and Pepper shrugged. 

She took the bullet and put it in her mouth, and tears began to stream down her cheeks. The group watched in horror as her hand turned into a large paw with sharp claws, and she turned to Tony, her expression pleading, before she began to sprout dark fur all over her body. They could hear her bones creak and click as they elongated and she changed into a large werewolf. 

Everyone took a step back, and Brock ran from the room, abandoning Bucky. Steve, on the other hand, stood in front of Bucky, shielding him with his own body. The werewolf looked around, then pounced at Tony as he fired his gun…

...And Pepper slumped to the floor, human once more, a bullet wound in her chest. 

Steve took the gun from Tony's shaking hand, and helped him to sit down on one of the armchairs. 

“But… I don't understand?” Tony said slowly. “She couldn't have been the werewolf. She was with us when the werewolf attacked and killed our dog earlier. It couldn't have been her.”

Steve looked down at the body of his hostess thoughtfully, as he considered the events of the night. It hit him, suddenly, and he sat on the armchair next to Tony’s, grasping Tony's hands in his. “Mr Stark--Tony--you're right. Your wife was not the original werewolf. In fact, if I'm correct, that would have been her first transformation.”

“What do you mean?” Tony asked thickly, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand. 

“The werewolf’s curse is propagated through saliva and blood, correct?”

Tony looked at Steve curiously. “As I understand it, that is correct.”

“And did your wife not touch the dog’s wounds after it had been killed by the beast?”

“Yes, but I don't understand how it could have got into her bloodstream?”

“The cut on her hand from dinner,” Steve said gently. “If you remember, she cut her hand on one of the crystal wine glasses.”

Tony looked at Steve, his eyes filled with tears. He blinked them back angrily, looking at the body of his wife on the floor. “Goddamn that Romanoff!” he cried, voice unsteady. “I'm going to catch her in the act, once and for all.”

He swept out of the room, gun in hand, and Bucky made as if to follow him, but Steve laid his hand on Bucky's arm. “Best not to, Buck,” he said quietly. “This is going to be unpleasant.”

“Oh, God, Steve.” Bucky turned to Steve, wrapping his arms around him and burying his face in Steve's neck. “God, this trip has been a nightmare.”

Steve hesitated, then hugged Bucky close, thrilling at the nearness of him. “Yeah. But one way or another I guess it'll all be over soon.”

“Did you mean what you said earlier?” Bucky asked softly. “Will you really never forgive me for the things I said, and for rebounding with Brock?”

Steve shrugged. “I don't know, Buck. I guess it just really hurt me, that you would say those things and then just take up with another guy. But I guess… I guess I said some pretty awful stuff too.”

Bucky looked at him hopefully. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

They looked into each other's eyes, smiling, unaware of the discovery Tony was about to make...

***

Tony ran up the staircase like a man possessed, determined to end the beast’s reign of terror once and for all. It had taken too much from him already. Romanoff had to be stopped. 

When he reached her door, he flung it open and pointed the gun into the room, but it was empty. However, as he walked around the bed, he realized that the room was not empty after all--Natasha lay on the other side of the bed nearest the open window, mauled so she was almost unrecognizable save for her flowing red hair, matted with blood.

Tony gaped. He had been so sure… but that meant that one of the men downstairs must be the werewolf!

Consumed by the need for revenge, he ran down the stairs and out the door, into the woods near the house. He heard a howl, then growling coming closer, and closer, and closer. The werewolf pounced out of the shadows, and Tony pistol whipped it across the face. It landed on the ground then leapt towards him again, as Tony pulled the trigger. 

There, on the ground, lay the body of Brock Rumlow, the airplane pilot. Tony stared at the corpse in disgust. 

“I should have known,” he said, panting. “When you disappeared earlier, I should have known. You killed my wife, you sonofabitch.” He limped back to the house, where he was met by Steve and Bucky, who were standing together in the doorway. 

“Is she dead?” Bucky asked. 

Tony shook his head. “She is, but it wasn't Romanoff. Mr Barnes, I'm so sorry, but your boyfriend--Brock…”

Bucky's eyes widened. “Brock? But… he couldn't be!”

“I'm sorry, Mr Barnes, but I've killed him. I killed the werewolf, and it turned into Mr Rumlow.” Tony winced in pain, and Steve and Bucky looked down to see a gaping wound in Tony's leg. 

“Tony… you've been bitten!” Steve cried out, and Tony looked down at his leg, grimacing. 

“Then there's only one thing to do. Gentlemen,” he said with a nod, and limped into the house, Steve and Bucky looked at each other, and suddenly heard a loud gunshot. They rushed inside to see Tony lying sprawled on the sofa, a large bullet wound in his forehead and almost the whole of the other side of his head blown out. 

“He ended the werewolf’s bloodline,” Steve said softly. “It dies with him.”

“Steve, what should we do?” Bucky asked him. “We’re gonna have to call the police, but the phones are down and there's no cell reception here.”

“Then we look for transport,” Steve said decidedly. “He must have at least one car around here somewhere.”

As dawn broke over the horizon, they found a large garage filled with classic cars. Steve hotwired a Porsche with a full tank of gas, and together they drove to the nearest village. 

The local police were disinclined to believe their stories, and held them in a cell. Despite their insistence, the police believed that they had killed the party together. But when the police arrived at the scene and saw the bodies, they quickly realized that no human could have torn the victims apart in that way--it had to be the work of an animal. 

The three who had gunshot wounds were more suspect, but the police eventually accepted Steve and Bucky's witness statements that Tony had killed his wife and Brock, as well as himself. Given that there was no evidence to the contrary, they concluded after a short investigation that a wolf had gone savage and killed several people in the home of the billionaire, and that he himself had gone insane and killed his wife, a guest, and himself. The wet paw prints in the damp soil backed this up, and they put out a warning to the locals that there was a large, savage wolf on the loose in the area. 

Steve and Bucky knew the locals were now safe from this wolf, but the police wouldn't listen, having been unable to find the body of the beast. 

Finally, after hours and hours of the same questions over and over again, one of the police officers sighed. “Well, frankly,” she said, “I think that this billionaire guy managed to convince you of his crazy beliefs and you're so much in shock that you imagined the rest.”

Bucky opened his mouth to argue, but Steve tapped his knee and subtly shook his head. The sooner they got out of there and were able to put the whole tragedy behind them the better. 

“So are we free to go?” Steve asked. 

The police officer sighed. “Yes, you're free to go.” They thanked the officer and, as soon as the police had released their belongings, they made their way back to the airport. They flew together back to New York in silence, both trying to wrap their heads around what they had experienced. 

As they collected their bags from the carousel, Steve jostled Bucky's shoulder. “I don't know about you,” he began slowly, “but I could do with some breakfast.”

He held out his hand, and Bucky smiled, taking it as they walked together out into the morning sunlight.


End file.
